I decided one day to suck a cock. I went to the local adult video store and went to the video booths in back. I wasn't leaving until I had a hard cock explode down my throat. I was so hot! I began watching the movie (a she-male flick with a lot of hard cock in panties!) and stroking my pantie-enclosed cock. I was at full erection when I heard the door next to me shut and the sound of a zipper going down. My heart began beating faster as I made my move.
I tapped lightly on the door and heard a whispered “Yes?”
“I can help you out with that if you let me in,” I replied.
The door opened and I quickly entered. Inside was a cute young guy, about twenty years old. He looked really nervous, so I took charge. I got him to relax, then slowly slid his jeans down. He had a smooth, hairless body and a nice, stiffening bulge in his bikini briefs. I pulled them down and gently squeezed and stroked his cock. He had about six inches when he was completely hard. The shaft was so smooth I had to lick it. I ran my tongue up his cock and heard him suck in a breath.
I stepped back and very slowly pulled my slacks down. His eyes widened and he let out a moan as he saw my hard-on completely covered by my panties. He reached down and began rubbing my balls through my panties. I went down on him and his breath quickened.
He started jacking me off through my flimsy panties. A few large drops of pre-come oozed out. By the light of the video monitor, I could see my cock perfectly through the wet material. He told me my cock felt so good through my panties that he wanted to wear some and rub our stiff poles together through them. I said, “Then let's go to my place and we can!” He agreed, and we quickly left for my apartment.
He got undressed as I selected a pair of light-blue panties for him. He pulled them on and began stroking himself. He got on my bed and begged me to dry-hump him. I kissed him deeply as our rock-hard members rubbed together. I pulled back, went down and kissed his cock through the nylon material. I slid them down and positioned myself so my cock was up near his head. I hoped he would start to suck mine.
I started swirling my tongue around his cockhead, covering it with saliva. I tried to remember all I had seen in porn movies and put it to use. I must have done well. He told me I sucked cock better than his girlfriend. I immediately went at him more intensely, deep-throating his young love-rod.
I was overjoyed when he grasped my cock and started licking and sucking. He was doing all right for a beginner.
I felt the quick spasms of his orgasm. I gave him a final deep-throat and sucked hard all the way to the soft head of his cock.
He came in four quick spurts. I caught it and let it go down my throat. I continued flicking my tongue around the head of his half-hard cock.
I neared climax and shot a giant load into his mouth and onto his chest. I licked it off, rolled it around on my tongue, and swallowed it. He still held most of my load in his mouth as I kissed turn deeply, causing him to swallow it.
He thanked me for a wonderful time and asked if he could shower. I told him to go ahead. I quickly grabbed my camera and rushed to the shower with him. I told him to leave his panties on as he showered. His cock, as well as mine, sprang back to attention at the idea.
We took a roll of photos and made plans for our next few encounters. He wants to let his girlfriend in on our secret and have an all-night threesome. She rubs her panties on his cock now, so I guess you could say she's headed in the right direction.—None and address withheld
WHAT A BARGAIN
I am twenty-four years old, stand five feet seven inches tall, and weigh about a hundred and thirty pounds. Ever since my early teens I've had a desire to crossdress, and for several years now I've occasionally gone out wearing heels and hose. One afternoon I decided to try something new. I went to the mall wearing my denim miniskirt, garter belt, nylons, and high heels—and no panties!
I had a raging hard-on (or at least as big as my little pony will get) as I pulled the denim mini over my red and black lace garter belt and black, sheer nylons. With this I wore a light blue cotton top with spaghetti shoulder straps, a small-cupped strapless bra (stuffed, of course), a touch of makeup, and my favorite black high-heel slip-on sandals.
When I arrived at the mall, I quickly made my way to the outside entrance of a women's shoe store. The place was empty with the exception of a middle-aged woman who was simply browsing and two salesgirls talking behind the register. I walked over to one of the displays of shoes, and as I passed the register, I could hear the two girls giggling, one of them saying, “It's a guy.”
With my back to them, I picked up an ankle-strap sandal and was looking at it when one of the girls approached me and asked if she could help me. I showed her the shoe and told her my size. As she looked me up and down, she smiled, said, “Sure,” and strode off. When she returned I was standing near the seats, but I was afraid to sit down—I was worried that she might see my little penis. But the shoes looked great, and I just had to try them on.
When I sat down, I noticed that my stockings were exposed almost to the garters. I tried tugging at my skirt, but the salesgirl told me not to worry. She said she'd caught hundreds of inadvertent peeks at women's privates. “It's part of the job.” she assured me.
About this time the other salesgirl walked over and sat in the chair to my left, saying that my shoes looked good. The first girl, still kneeling in front of me, suggested that I walk to see how they felt. I uncrossed my legs, stood up, tugged at my skirt, and walked to the mirror. When I returned to my seat and sat down, I forgot to check my skirt, which promptly rode up my legs, exposing not only the tops of my stockings, but also the head of my prick!
Before I got a chance to pull my skirt down and apologize, each of the girls grabbed a side of the mini and pulled it up around my waist. At first I thought they were just trying to embarrass me, but when the girl kneeling on the floor leaned toward me and wrapped her lips around the head of my prick, I wasn't embarrassed at all—I was in heaven!
“What about customers?” I asked.
“We locked the door just after that old lady left,” the girl to my left assured me as she unbuttoned her blouse and brought the rosy nipple of a small but pert little tit to my mouth.
I had one girl hobnobbing my modest little dick while I paid tongue service to another willing nymph. These girls couldn't have been more than seniors in high school, but they'd obviously had more sexual experience than I'd ever even dreamed about.
Just when I felt like I was going to shoot, Salesgirl Number One slurped away from my dick and, grabbing my ankles, pulled me to the floor. I said good-bye to my pink little mammary friends, but was soon greeted by an ever more palatable protrusion. When Salesgirl Number Two stood over me and lifted up her skirt, I saw that she wasn't wearing any panties either. Nestled at the apex of an inverted triangle of fine, brunette pubic hair was a sweet little vaginal gash, surpassed in beauty only by the throbbing clit that, exposed by the salesgirl's knowing fingers, was rapidly descending upon my mouth.
I lapped at that little tiger as if I hadn't eaten in a week, and soon the girl was gyrating madly above me, grinding her patch against my nose.
The other girl had continued her blowjob, and soon my dick had grown to around five or six inches, a record for me. Just as the girl on my face was about to come, she yelled over her shoulder, “You got him ready, Alicia?”
“I think that's as big as it's going to get, Anne,”
Again the sweets were snatched from my mouth, and again I didn't mind. Anne inched her butt down toward my dick, leaving a trail of warm, wet jism, and gently descended upon my rod. Oh, ecstasy. How many times had I beaten off in the past year, dreaming of this moment. I started pushing up my pelvis, and Anne met my every thrust. Sweetly, warmly she slid up and down on my cock, occasionally rocking from side to side, making sure to stimulate the entire surface of my dick.
When I was ready to come, Anne sensed it and leaned back, placing her hands on my knees. This really stimulated the head of my penis, but it prohi
bited me from coming just yet. She humped me in this position a couple of times, and when she finally lunged forward, I let loose with at least five good spurts of love cream.
Sweat was beading on her little titties, and Alicia, who'd been masturbating while watching us, lowered her mouth to lick those little orbs, swinging her ass and luscious blond pussy onto my face.
It wasn't till I got home an hour later that I realized I was wearing a brand-new pair of shoes.—Name and address withheld
S&M
WIFE DOES THE DRIVING
I am dressed like the little slut I am. My hair is primped and teased. My lips are painted my favorite shade of pink, my eyes are shaded with just the right amount of blue and red, and my lashes are coated with mascara. My chest is covered by a frilly, lacy red bra. Around my waist is a matching red garter belt that holds up my red fishnet stocking. Oh yes, I almost forgot about my red crotchless panties, from which my hard and dripping cock protrudes. That's right, I'm a man, and I'm about to get fucked. And, believe me, I'm going to enjoy it.
Denise stands before me. Her lips, painted bright red for this occasion, are locked in a smile that tells me she is looking forward to using me like the slut I am. Her breasts glisten in the soft glow of candlelight that bathes the room. Her pink nipples stand straight up at attention; I know this is a sure sign that she is hot. My eyes move from her tits and across her flat tummy to her waist. Her shaven pussy is hidden from my view, not by panties or any other garment, but by a strap-on dildo. It looks just like a real cock—flesh-colored and veined, about six inches long and half as wide. My heartbeat quickens as I realize that his plastic penis will soon be buried to the hilt in my virgin ass. But for now Denise has other ideas about where to put it.
“Well, my little slut,” she whispers, “if you want this cock, you're going to have to prove that you love it.” She pushes me to my knees, my lips now inches from her makeshift cock.
“Tonight you are going to be my little cocksucker, aren't you?” she asks. When she receives no answer from me, she asks again. This time I answer, “Yes, Denise. Tonight I'll suck your cock. Tonight and any night you want me to.” Her hand moves to the back of my head. My mouth opens wide as I take the head of the dildo in my mouth. My lips close and then I take them away so I can admire my lipstick print on the wonderful shaft. “You had better do a good job of sucking my cock,” Denise tells me. “The wetter you get it, the easier it will slide up that virgin ass of yours. Besides,” she continues, “if you do not suck me the way I want you to, I may not fuck that pretty little ass of yours. You wouldn't want that.”
“No, I wouldn't,” I whisper. “I want you to fuck my ass, and I'll do whatever you want. Just please tell me you'll fuck me.” Her only response is, “Suck it,” and that's just what I did. My lips closed around the plastic penis, and I sucked it into my eager mouth. Her hands gripped the back of my head as she pushed the cock deeper into my mouth. My tongue eagerly licked the shaft as she plunged it in and out of my mouth. It was hitting the back of my throat, causing me to gag with each thrust. She just laughed about that as she fucked my face, all the while telling me what a good little cocksucker I was. After what seemed like hours of using my mouth, she finally pulled the cock out. “Now,” she said, “I want you to tell me where you want me to put this dick.”
“I want you to put it in my ass, Denise,” I whispered.
“What?” she asked. “I really can't hear you, but I'm sure you didn't say please.”
“Please,” I cried. “Please, Denise, fuck my ass. Shove that cock deep inside me. Please fuck me, please.”
“That's better, you little slut. Now I can hear you,” she hissed. “Now I know you want it, and I'm going to give it to you. Turn around and stick that sweet little ass in the air,” she said. “I want your cheeks spread wide.”
I quickly did as she said. Resting my face on the floor, I used my hands to spread my cheeks wide. I had been waiting a long time for this, and when she finally did break my cherry ass, I wanted her to be as deep inside me as possible. “That's a good little slut,” she whispered. “Spread them cheeks wide, because I'm going to fuck you good.”
She knelt behind me, and I felt the tip of that cock pressing against my hole. It was slick from my saliva, and my ass gave little resistance as the head slid inside. It hurt but excited me at the same time. Slowly she inched her way inside me, my asshole expanding as it was filled with the cock. I was squirming with delight when I felt her thighs slap against my ass. I was completely filled, her cock buried in my ass, and I was loving it. “Fuck me, Denise,” I was screaming without even realizing it. “Stick that cock inside me. Fuck me like the little slut that I am.”
“You love it, you little slut, don't you?” she cried.
“Yes, I love it. My ass is yours. Do what you want with me,” I whimpered. “Just please don't stop.” She raped my ass until she was tired of it, plunging in and out of my anus with wild abandon. When she tired, I would drive my ass backwards on her cock. I just couldn't get enough. I had her lie on the floor and I lowered myself onto her cock. Then I rode it the way I had seen her ride mine so many times before. Finally, with her behind me, again fucking my ass very gently and slowly, she took my cock in her hand and jerked me off. When I came, she caught every drop in her hand. She then brought it to my lips and I sucked my come from her hand. My story ends here, with a cock up my ass and come in my mouth. Just like the little slut that I am.—M.D., Trenton, New Jersey
THE WHIPPING CANE
It pays not to keep your secrets locked in. Although I was brought up in a country where in most homes it is still commonplace to find a whipping cane, I'd never experienced it myself during my entire childhood. Nevertheless, somehow I became obsessed with whipping canes and the things that can be done with them.
I was twenty-six when, in a weak moment I revealed to Charleen, my new girlfriend, then just recently visiting from England, the fantasies I'd had since adolescence about girls with canes and switches and about getting spanked by them. I said this to her mostly to explore the possibility of her one day being willing to play those games. Charleen's first reaction was, “You are crazy!”
For two weeks she avoided me and I feared it was all over between us. Then finally she phoned and asked me to meet her at a summer pool party at Cathy's house. Cathy was her English friend. I had never met her before.
It was at a condo on the far north side of Detroit on a hot summer day. Charleen was not there, and I, being quiet and unsuspecting, had not found it strange that only Cathy, the twenty-three-year-old, short-haired, blond and statuesque nymph from England was there, with her much younger roommate Maryellen. Both were in their swimsuits. They insisted that I, too, put my trunks on and join them at the pool to wait for Charleen. Little did I know. I was still buttoning up my fly when, without knocking, they were in the room saying that I must join them for a drink first.
The bar was in the rec room that was below the ground level. My heart jolted when I noticed a three-foot-long, thin, supple switch of ringed, jointed bamboo ominously shining on top of a black leather-covered hassock in the middle of the brightly sunlit room. The switch was curved at one end into a handle. I was startled. “Will you take it off yourself,” said Cathy point-blank, “or do we do it for you?”
Blood froze in my veins when she took that switch, and I think that my toes curled when she flexed it testily to her side. She was the type who most likely threw the discus over two hundred feet, and to relax spent an hour or more on the vaulting horse. I stood transfixed, then stupefied by embarrassment when Maryellen pulled my trunks down and off. Before I knew it I was across that hassock myself, tied to it by the hands and feet.
Charleen had told them about my fantasies and I was there to be rid of them. I was there to get a licking that would ensure I wouldn't sit for a day, Cathy had announced as she turned the stereo on high. I confess to pleading and crying out in pain like a child, but to no avail. Cathy had whipped me until I coul
dn't sit, not for one day, but for three.
Charleen had never mentioned anything on our next date, and I was too embarrassed to bring it up. It was a month later that she told me she'd made another appointment for me with Cathy, being absolutely inexorable about it. I was to either keep the appointment or lose her.
I'm not sure which was worse: the embarrassment of facing Cathy and Maryellen again, undressing before them, or seeing that flexing switch and knowing what was coming next. Cathy's announcement drilled me into the floor. “You'll be getting lickings from me once a month until you're completely cured of your freak fantasies, and it is I who will decide when that is.”
I had ten sessions with Cathy's switch, across the hassock in the rec room, even though my fantasies had really been dead after the second, if not already after the first. I had tried to put this across to her time after time. Still, I had to keep on returning until she finally was convinced that it was so.
That was more than ten years ago. Charleen and I have been married for over nine, and I must say very happily. Our sex life is great and Cathy never talks about our early sessions, although her switch has hung for all these years on the inside of the closet door in our bedroom, visibly bowed now.—Name and address withheld by request
TAKE MY WIFE, HARD
For Christmas, my wife Allie bought me an expensive toy, a camcorder. Little did she know that she would be my prime subject. I now have several hours of her on video: in suits, tight skirts, teddies, garter belts, and stockings, and of course, in the raw. I had a big and daring video planned, but I needed her approval. Finally, after much begging and persuasion—and a promise from me that I would never ask her to do such a thing again—she agreed to be in the video I'd proposed.
Letters to Penthouse III Page 8